


Vincent's Fire

by Entwinedlove



Series: The Great October Challenge 2017 [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Self-Harm, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16468976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: Greg Goyle mourns his best friend.





	Vincent's Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NaNo's Misfits's 31 Days of Fanfiction Challenge  
> day 5 prompt: friends
> 
> [ ](https://i.imgur.com/y1ZqeRR.jpg)

Greg scratched his fingers against the rough material that passed for a mattress on the Ministry-standard cot in his cell, seeking out a loose thread and digging at the stitch until the next one broke and the thread lengthened.

He was grumpy and in a foul mood since... well, things had been weird during seventh year. He'd ascended the school hierarchy, hadn't he? Him and Vincent. They'd ruled Slytherin, they'd ruled over all the Houses... but that wasn't why he was grumpy. No, he was grumpy because during the final battle, the one where his best friend had  _died_ , he'd run away like a coward. Draco had told him to get out, to run, and he'd done it, but it hadn't mattered.

The Aurors had come, wrecking his father's house, possibly destroying his mother's only portrait in the process, and arrested him. It wasn't until a week later, a week of isolation in this cramped, stale cell that he'd even been told his father had died.

_Died._

First Vincent and then his dad. He didn't want to believe it and at first, he didn't, but the more he thought about it, the more it settled into his bones.

He was the last of the pathetic House of Goyle, whatever that meant. His family hadn't been prominent for many years and he knew his father's goal in joining the Dark Lord had been to gain glory and prestige. Too bad it hadn't worked.

He dug his nails into the mattress and when it gave too easily he tried the skin of his arm next. His nails were dirty, he noticed. There was still soot on his skin and he hadn't had a bath in over a week.

Soot from Vincent's fire.

The pain in his arm wasn't enough and he pinched at himself next, then thumped his meaty fist into his thighs. He couldn't stop seeing it. The fire. It roared in his head still, flames that formed animals, licking at everything, burning and turning everything they touched into ash. Swallowing Vincent and turing him into ash.

His best friend.

His  _only_ friend.

Gregory screamed, his voice hoarse from the lack of water and his previous screams, and banged his head against the wall behind him. It hurt, but not enough. Not enough. Nothing could. No amount of physical irritation or damage or pain could take away the pain he felt inside.

If he ever got out, which he didn't think was going to happen (he wasn't a Death Eater, but he'd used enough Unforgivables on fellow students that they thought he was), he wouldn't even have a body to bury.

Gregory's mouth tasted like ashes.


End file.
